


i....can't remember.

by periwinklepandas



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, Happy Ending, One Shot, Other, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, jk lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepandas/pseuds/periwinklepandas
Summary: Ghostbur has some....realizations. Unpleasant ones. (reposted from my (taken down) oneshots book)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. i..... can't remember

**Author's Note:**

> repost from my oneshot book but its not that outdated yay
> 
> original notes :// tw : // suicide, angst, insanity, self-hate  
> word count : 1490  
> notes : // Prepare for angst.  
> Ghostbur is so innocent and wholesome ily him sm- and then what do i do ? i hurt him-  
> its 12am rn as i post this lol, oh and also I swear I'm not a wilbur simp hes just nice to write-  
> anyways this is 1.5k words of pure, messy, poetic angst so enjoy lol

Wilbur is cold. Wilbur is achingly cold, chilled down to the bone, and no matter how many fireplaces he finds and sits by, how many blankets he huddles under, that numb, empty feeling just won't go away.

Wilbur can't remember. He can't remember his friends, can't remember the priceless friendships he knew he'd made, can't remember what happened  _ before  _ because it's just a blur of tears, voices,  _ desperation  _ , and he can't remember what  _ living  _ feels like anymore. He's forgotten what it feels like to have the earth under his feet, have the air in his lungs and wind in his hair. And he wants to know, wants to remember again because what's life without  _ feeling, without knowing  _ ? 

The universe is not cruel, just as it is not kind, and soon Wilbur's wish is granted. It starts small, little by little, and Wilbur realizes that he knows once again. He knows the pitter-patter of rain coming down to the earth, knows the broadness of the shimmering, aquamarine sea in the way that it makes one feel  _ free  _ , free and complete. He knows the clearness and freedom of the sunrise, and the sentimentality and beauty of the sunset. 

He feels again.

And then he starts remembering bigger things. Good memories and not just feelings, ones that make you feel happiness and nostalgia and have this warm fuzzy feeling inside you. Sparring with a pink haired boy......Techno? As a kid. Chatting with Tommy, the young boy's energy and spunk lighting up everything around him. Ranting to Phil, pouring out all his troubles and hearing that reassuring voice of his, feeling his grievances melt away. Watching Fundy grow up, heart bursting with pride and fulfillment. Winning the first Revolutionary War. And so much more. Wilbur smiles, for the first time in days? Weeks? Months? Because he finally remembers, remembers the good memories and the sentiments.

But as is the law of the universe, with good, there is bad, and with bad, there is good. And Wilbur's case is no exception. The expression on his ghostly pale face changes from bliss to shock to grief and desperation, as he remembers  _ more  _ . His smile falters as he remembers the bad things; remembers the heartwrenching betrayal of Eret, remembers the pure desperation of the moment Tommy lost the duel, remembers the shock and anger and disbelief when Schlatt won the election, the fear he felt running towards the woods with Tommy, Declaration of Independence in hand, arrows whizzing by like streaks of light. Tears stream down his face, Wilbur's mind wishing he'd never pleaded to the universe for this. But it was too late.

More memories and trauma come flooding in, and Wilbur freezes, falters because it is  _ so much more worse  _ than he could have imagined. He sees himself lashing out at Tommy and Techno,  _ his own brothers,  _ in a familiar ravine. He sees himself muttering to himself in a room covered in red string and maps, making plans that will never come into action, slipping off the cliffs of sanity. He sees Technoblade executing a scared Tubbo with a smirk on his face, betraying them in broad daylight, and him agreeing with Techno,  _ defending  _ him while a furious Tommy hugs a terrified Tubbo in the sidelines; and he sees himself standing on the side, doing absolutely nothing, even  _ cheering on  _ as Techno beats Tommy to a bloodied pulp.

But that wasn't the worst thing, because now Wilbur sees himself standing in a small, dirty, room with words carved into the walls, standing next to a small, square button that he instantly knows the purpose of upon seeing it in the vision, caressing it desperately, laughing and crying maniacally. And then he sees the worst, the most unfathomably terrible thing of all. He sees Phil,  _ his father, his mentor  _ join the game. And Phil desperately pleading with him, begging him not to press  _ it.  _ He sees himself shake his head, say something, and then in an eerily calm and composed form, press the button. 

Wilbur is pulled out of his nightmarish memories, and he wants to  _ scream.  _ He wants to scream and shriek and curse at the universe, at  _ someone, whoever  _ , but he can't. He can't, because this is only his own fault. It was  _ his  _ wish, and  _ his  _ actions, and  _ his  _ fault, and waves of guilt come crashing down on him in heavy doses, not allowing him a moment to breathe. He's shaking and curled up on the floor, ragged, uneven breaths forcing their way out of his lungs, because this is months and months of trauma and grief  _ reexperienced  _ all again, twice as agonizing.

But the universe won't allow him a break, and he's yanked against his pleads back to his memories. Him and Phil, standing next to a ruined, destroyed L'manberg, and him begging,  _ pleading  _ , for Phil to kill him, to end it all, because look at them. They all wanted for him to be  _ gone, gone,  _ to disappear and vanish forever, because after all he had done, why wouldn't they? 

Phil obliges. 

Wilbur comes back to reality, and makes a silent plead. He begs, he sobs and cries and prays to whatever gods there are and the universe to make it  _ stop,  _ Make it stop, because even though he knows this is  _ his fault  _ , he's a human, and humans are selfish, and all he wants is for this emotional torment to stop. Fucking stop. 

_ "No,"  _ the universe replies.  _ "You asked for this. You did this, and you must learn to bear the consequences of your actions."  _ It said this in not a gentle way, but not in a harsh, reprimanding way either, but rather in a matter-of-fact, obvious way, stating the truth. 

Then it plunges him into not a memory, not a relic of the past, but rather the present.

And he stares in horror, his mouth agape as he sees the ruin the SMP's fallen into. He sees L'manberg, in shambles and ruins with hazaphard temporary bridges and pathways. What once was filled with light, joy and life, once was a glorious nation of prosperity, independence, and equality was now plagued by death, darkness, and desperation, had become corrupt with greed, insanity, chaos. 

He sees the destruction of places  _ outside  _ L'manberg, affected by the war spreading out, consuming everything in its path of darkness. But most importantly, most heartwrenching and heart-shattering of all, he sees his friends and family, the people he loved and cared for all along in the depths of his heart in  _ pain.  _

He sees Tubbo, his friend, his partner, laying in bed listlessly, blaming himself for everything when really he himself should be to blame. He sees Techno, his brother, his comrade, being consumed by guilt, guilt that he followed Schlatt's orders without a doubt when really he was just scared, because even though he's Techno, the blood god, he's still human and scared. And Wilbur could've stopped him, could've supported him, but he didn't. He sees Niki, the love of his life, sobbing in front of a gravestone--  _ his gravestone  _ , and he should've stayed alive, even if he didn't want to, just for the people he loved. But he was too weak. 

He sees Tommy, his innocent, fun-loving kid brother waking up in cold sweat, shaking endlessly from the nightmares and the trauma that plagued his sleep, and Wilbur could've protected him,  _ should've protected him,  _ because he was too young-- far, far too young, and Wilbur dragged him into this, and Wilbur shouldn't have been so wrapped up in his own problems and should've helped Tommy, but it was too late for that.

Last of all, Wilbur sees Phil. Phil, his  _ father,  _ his  _ mentor, the person who had helped him through his darkest days, the person who has stood by him every time, even when no one else did-  _ God, Phil. The person who he loved and cherished the most, and the person he'd failed the most. He sees Phil blame himself, blame himself for killing Wilbur even though he'd asked, blame himself for not being there for his kids during the war, blame himself, and beat himself up for mistakes  _ Wilbur had made  _ . And he wanted, desperately craved to appear in front of Phil, to apologize and beg for forgiveness, to shake his father and tell him that  _ it wasn't his fault.  _ It was Wilbur's fault, and he was sorry, sorry, so so fucking  _ sorry  _ for everything.

But he couldn't. He couldn't, because he was dead, a ghost, a mere shell and shadow of a person, and Phil wouldn't fucking hear him anyway.

And as the realization hits, Wilbur breaks. Wilbur sobs and screams and shouts into nothingness until his voice is broken and his throat raw. He's cold, he's a  _ ghost  _ and he never wants to remember again, go through all that excruciating pain again. 

He sits in a corner and laughs bitterly. He got what he wished for. 

He remembered everything, he  _ hated  _ it, and he was colder than ever.


	2. light a lantern, make a wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbur hates remembering, and he's cold. But maybe a wish can fix that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also a repost lmaooo i figured id put these two together instead of in separate works since the oneshots are separate now
> 
> original notes :// tw :// self-hate  
> notes :// Hi guys ! hope yall are doin good. now i wrote this instead of studying for my general studies final, so yall better appreciate it. consider this as an apology gift for the incredibly angsty oneshot i wrote yesterday ok? and something to mend your heart with.  
> enjoy :)

Wilbur's still cold.

He's still cold, and he doesn't think he'll ever be warm again after _ remembering.  _ He spends his days aimlessly floating around, having given up on curing the chills that racked his entire body, forcing him to shake uncontrollably. 

Wilbur wishes that he could end it all again, but he can't because he's a ghost, not even living in the first place, and this is punishment for what he's done.

God, what he's done. The waves of guilt and self-hatred crash down on him constantly, a reminder that he's failed his country, failed his friends and family, failed himself.

But with darkness, there is light. There's always light at the end of the tunnel. With every pitch-black, suffocating night comes a sunrise, and with it, hope and peace.

And everything starts getting a little bit better. Just a little bit.

When he works up the courage to see his friends again, it's better.

He sees L'manberg, not exactly restored to its former glory, but repaired. He sees his friends, his family slowly  _ healing  _ . He sees Techno forgive himself, putting himself together bit by bit. He sees Niki getting better, still mourning, but happy again. He sees Tommy and Tubbo recovering together, helping each other through the nightmares and he's proud of them, proud of them for being so strong. And he sees Phil. He sees Phil forgiving himself, letting himself heal, realize it's not his fault after all.

And for the first time in months, Wilbur lets himself smile. He lets himself smile even though he doesn't deserve it after all he's done. He lets a peaceful expression form on his face, his lips tugging upwards. bu

The night sky is filled with stars that twinkle above him as he lights a chinese lantern, writing a wish inside whilst humming a familiar tune. 

_ I heard there was a special place _

_ where men could go and emancipate _

_ The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers _

The moon reflects in the clear water of the lake, fireflies buzzing around him as he lights up the lantern, having gotten used to the lack of warmth fire brings by now.

_ Well this place is real you needn't fret _

_ With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, screw Eret _

_ It's a very big and not blown up L'manberg _

Releasing the lantern containing his prayer to the universe, Wilbur watches as it floats up to the sky, up, up, and away until it's lost in the clouds. He knows he doesn't deserve it, yet he can't help but hope that everything would be okay, that things would improve. And maybe they would. Time heals all wounds, after all, and things were already getting better.

_ It's L'manberg _

_ My L'manberg  _

_ My L'manberg _

_ My L'manberg _

As he stares wistfully into the heavens, Wilbur feels tears running down his cheeks and down his sweater. And as he sits, crying silent tears, his wish is fulfilled, and he feels a spark of warmth in his chest for the first time in months.

word count : 493


End file.
